


Fighting Over You

by lod



Series: Pegoryu Week 2018 [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Acronyms, F/M, Gen, M/M, Oblivious, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lod/pseuds/lod
Summary: In an alternate timeline, Akira’s not dating anybody by the time he goes back to his hometown…





	Fighting Over You

They’d taken on a god and saved the world, their lives, and accessorily, Japan. It had been an eventful year and against all odds, it had ended well; they’d even managed to clear their leader’s name of all crimes by the time it was over. Then a new school year had come along, bringing with it the daily inevitability of school, homework, projects, tempered by movies and restaurants and the occasional trip to Shinjuku. It hadn’t been easy at first, but they’d all managed to close the wild otherworldly chapter of their lives and move on, learning to be just teenage students again.

But for two boys, sitting at the back of a diner in Shibuya, there was one last thing they just couldn’t seem to get closure on.

* * *

Ryuji and Yusuke had been huddled in a booth for the last hour, half-empty drinks forgotten on the table as they swiped their phones’ screens obsessively.

“Look at this one.”

Yusuke leaned over to look more closely, brushing an errant strand of midnight-blue hair out of his eyes. “Oh, it’s excellent. The angles, the lighting. Send that one to me too.”

His phone dinged as Ryuji did so. Yusuke pointed to his own phone. “What about this one? It’s a little blurry, but look how the stretch makes his shirt ride up.”

Ryuji nodded vigorously. “Yeah, definitely send it. I had no idea you had so many good ones, we should have done this ages ago!”

 

“Hey! What are you guys up to?”

Two heads snapped up, roused from their world of photos, to see a bright and happy smile shining at them from beneath messy blue hair. Before either of them had time to answer, Mishima leaned over to look at Yusuke’s screen.

“Oh, is that a picture of Akira?” They hesitated to reply, and he went on, “I have a really good one I took on the Hawaii trip last year! Wanna see it?”

Ryuji and Yusuke looked at each other, nodded once, and squeezed together to make room for a third on their booth seat.

* * *

A week later, the unofficial League of Akira Media Enthusiasts was meeting at Ogikubo for some ramen and art appreciation. Yusuke’s notebook sat between Ryuji and Mishima, the latter flipping through it with his clean hand while he slurped up noodles with the other.

“So this is really how he looked when you guys were fighting in that other world?”

“Yes,” Yusuke replied. “I did my best to accurately represent Joker’s costume.”

“I am  _ so jealous _ , you have no idea. That coat, the leather top, those gloves… you actually got to see him like that all the time! I wish I could have been there,” Mishima moaned.

“Yeah, no. Definitely super hot, but have you seen what I wore? Skintight. Leather. Jumpsuit _. _ ”

“I’m not denying you looked good too, Ryuji, but—”

“That’s not what I meant!  _ What do you think a boner feels like in that? _ ” Ryuji hissed.

“Oh— Ohhh…”

“Ryuji’s costume was rather unfortunate, indeed.”

“What did you wear, Kitagawa-kun? I don’t think I’ve seen it yet.”

Yusuke reached past Ryuji to take hold of the sketchbook, and flipped through it before finding what he was looking for, a full body sketch of his Metaverse outfit.

“I was in a jumpsuit as well, but luckily mine was not quite so close to the body. I was rather grateful for it, I must admit. And please, I’ve told you to just call me Yusuke.”

They finished their ramen while discussing the various outfits of the other Phantom Thieves.

As they were making their way back to the train station, Mishima sighed loudly. “I just can’t believe Ryuji and Akira weren’t dating. I can’t believe I missed such a good opportunity!”   
“Not for fault of trying, dude. I told him I felt free when I talked with him, and he acted like I was speaking gibberish. I told him he was cool, I even told him my place was next to him and his place was next to me, and he didn’t even respond! I should have just asked him out, point-blank.”

“I do regret turning down his offer to strip for me, although it would most likely have gotten us forcibly removed from the church,” Yusuke said wistfully.

“Strip for— actually, I don’t want to know. He probably didn’t even realise the implications. I met him in  _ Shinjuku _ every night and he never got the hint. He’s the most oblivious man alive, I think. But anyway, you do remember what’s happening in two weeks?”

Ryuji thought for a moment, and Yusuke answered. “Golden Week. Akira’s coming back to Tokyo.”

“Right!” Ryuji exclaimed. “I’d forgotten that was so soon. Better late than never — I’m gonna take my chances and do it!”

“Hey! That’s not fair, you had all of last year to ask him. It’s my turn now,” Mishima protested.

They started bickering, but Yusuke interrupted them. “I believe I have the solution.”

“Huh?”

“We shall take turns. He’s going to be here for four days, so it works out perfectly. Each of us gets one day with Akira. On the last day, we can ask him who he prefers.”

“That’s...a pretty great idea, actually! I want the first day,” Ryuji said.

“Why should you get the first day!”

“I was his first friend in Tokyo, I get to go first.”

They continued to argue, until Yusuke grew tired of listening to them and suggested they draw straws.

* * *

Two weeks later, Mishima, Yusuke, and Ryuji went together to meet Akira at the train station, surrounding him the moment he stepped off the train.

“You’re only here a few days,” Mishima said after they’d all gotten a hug in and started walking back up the platform, “and we all wanted some time with you. So, we came up with a plan. You get to spend today with me, tomorrow with Yusuke, and Wednesday with Ryuji!”

“You guys put a lot of thought into this,” Akira said admiringly. “I’m honored you all want to spend time with me!”

“It was my idea,” Yusuke put in with a light bow.

“Thanks, Yusuke. It was you first, right, Mishima? Do you want to come with me to Leblanc so I can drop my suitcase off?”

Before Mishima could reply, a familiar trio of girls shouted, “Akira!”

Ann, Makoto and Haru rushed to hug Akira, then pulled back, letting Makoto talk.

“We realised that you’d only have a handful of days in Tokyo, and wanted to help you best optimise that time. In order to achieve that objective, we’ve drawn up a schedule for you,” she said, handing Akira a printed, color-coded calendar. “As you can see, you’ll have one day with each of us. We’ve saved Thursday for you to spend some time with Futaba and Sojiro, of course.”

“I’m afraid you come too late,” said Yusuke. “His schedule is already full for the next three days.”

“What do you mean?” Haru asked.

“He’s hanging out with  _ us  _ until Thursday,” Ryuji said smugly.

“What?!” Ann replied, outraged. “How dare you, we’ve been planning this for weeks!”

Akira put a hand on Ann and Ryuji’s shoulders, a peaceful smile on his face. “I can just spend each day with two people. That doesn’t seem so bad! Who was on your list for today, Makoto?”

* * *

Mishima and Ann walked besides Akira as they made their way back to Leblanc, seething and shooting each other angry glances behind his back.

“I thought we could go shopping today,” Ann was saying.

“Oh, that’s cute, but I doubt Akira wants to shop. I was going to take him to Shinjuku,” Mishima countered.

“I’m sure he’d rather look at beautiful objects than waste his time in that awful neighborhood.”

“Let’s go to Akihabara!” Akira said as he pushed open the cafe door. “We can shop for video games. It’s perfect!”

Futaba, who’d been waiting inside, jumped up from her bar stool and threw herself at Akira.

“You’re back! And what was that about video games?”

“We’re going to head out to Akihabara as soon as I drop off my bag. Do you want to come along?” Akira asked.

“Ye—” Futaba noticed the tension in the room and the murderous look in her friends’ eyes, and backed slowly towards the door. “—aaahhh actually I have to do some stuff at home today, but I’ll see you tonight!” she finished as she ran out of the cafe.

* * *

“I’m so thirsty!” Ann said as they arrived in Akihabara. “Oh, vending machines. Let’s get something.”

Ann looked through the options available. “Ultimate… amazake? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before.” She put her money in and the can tumbled down. “I’ll get you guys one too!”

They leaned against the wall by the gachapon machines as they sipped their drinks, letting the sun warm their faces. When they were done, they tried to walk away from the wall, but stumbled.

“Does anyone else feel a bit nauseous?” asked Ann.

Akira shook his curls out of his eyes and adjusted his glasses as he put a hand against the wall to catch his balance. “The world’s kinda spinning,” he said as he kept trying to focus.

Mishima frowned as he checked the can. “Maybe they were past their sell-by date.” He stopped suddenly. “Oh no, this is bad...”

“Huh?”

“Look,” he said as he held the can up where Akira and Ann could see it, pointing at the text on the back. “ _ Makes you think you’re drunk _ !”

“Can a non-alcoholic drink even do that?” Akira mused.

“But I’ve never been drunk! What are we supposed to do?!” Ann wailed.

“We’ll come up with a plan!” Akira’s motivation, however, was short-lived. He noticed the gachapon machines, and made his wobbly way over to them, his previous words instantly forgotten. “Are these Personas?!”

The others walked to him as he bent over to insert some coins into one of the machines.

Ann leaned on his shoulder, looking as he caught the capsule and checked the keychain inside.

“Is that Nue? Haven’t seen of of them in a while.”

Mishima looked over at the toy. “Do you two know this series?”

“Let’s say we’ve seen them around before.” Akira handed Mishima the toy. “Here, this one suits you.”

Mishima turned the odd, lion-like figurine in his hands, trying to understand what about it was suited to him. 

Meanwhile, Akira continued to play. He was up to 15 capsules when Ann asked him, “Are you trying for a specific one?”

“Yes! I gotta get Mara!”

Ann drew away sharply, her face twisted in disgust. “Oh my god, why Mara! No!”

Mishima glanced between the two. “What’s Mara?”

“It’s got this chariot and a big d—”

“ _ You don’t want to know _ ,” Ann cut in, glaring at Akira and trying to pull him away from the machines. “Come on, stop it!”

“Just a few more,” he whined as he kept inserting coins, resisting against her tugging on his arm.

After another five figurines and no Mara, Akira walked away from the row of machines dejectedly, with a messenger bag stuffed full of capsules. He pulled the Pixie out and handed her to Ann. “Here, she’s yours.”

Ann opened the capsule and nodded. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?” and put the keychain on her purse. “What are you gonna do with the rest of these, though?”

“I’ll give them to the people they belong to,” Akira replied. “Anyway, what else is there to do here?”

Still struggling to walk straight, they stumbled past a couple of electronics stores, when Mishima froze in his tracks. Akira turned to see what had caught his attention, and when he did, started shaking his head vigorously.

“Nope, no, no way!” He grabbed Mishima around the chest from behind, holding him back. “You are not going in there!”

“A maid cafe?” Ann asked. “I’ve heard those are always quite overpriced.”

“They make you food and call you Master,” Mishima murmured with stars in his eyes, pulling against Akira’s arms.

“Well, if he wants to go that bad, maybe we should let him?” Ann asked.

“He can’t  _ handle _ the maids,” Akira said as he tightened his arms around Mishima and frogmarched him away from the maid cafe. “Remember, Mishima?”

Confusion flashed across Mishima’s face, quickly replaced by horror. “No… I tried to forget... not Operation Maidwatch!” he breathed in a terrified tone as he slipped out of Akira’s arms and ran off down the alley, nearly knocking over a street stand selling DVDs.

Ann and Akira ran after him, catching up after a few seconds and each grabbing one of his arms.

“Stop running, we can’t afford for you to break everything here!”

They’d stopped in a bright pool of light, cast by the shop behind them. Ann dropped Mishima’s arm and turned to see what it was. “An arcade! Guys, how about it? Up for a few rounds?”

“Sounds good,” Akira said, and followed her in without letting go of Mishima.

Inside, the walls were lined with various crane games, and towards the back were a handful of arcade machines. Ann immediately headed for a shooter. “Who’s playing against me?”

“I’m gonna destroy you,” Mishima replied, picking up one of the guns, “I’m super good at shooting games!”

Mishima was, in fact, not too bad at shooting games, but no amount of playing in front of a screen was quite equivalent to the skill acquired while fighting for your actual life. After Ann had beaten him three times in a row, he slammed his gun down angrily.

“She’s cheating, Akira!”

However, his words reached nothing but empty air; Akira was nowhere to be seen. “Where’d he go?”

Ann and Mishima walked around the arcade, finally finding him hunched over a crane game, so focused he didn’t even hear them come up.

“You ditched us!”

“No, I gotta… I gotta get the…” He trailed off, attention fixed on the claw in front of his eyes.

Ann looked over to see what he was aiming to catch, and gasped. “Akira, NO! I said no Mara!”

She dragged him away from the machine angrily, ignoring his protestations. “Stop the weird obsession and come play this shooting thing with me.”

“Don’t play with her, she cheats,” Mishima grumbled as they returned to the game.

Ann and Akira faced off, Akira beating her easily; his gun in the Metaverse required a focused aim while she often could get away with spraying bullets at the enemy, and it showed.

When he did, Mishima huffed behind them. “How the hell are you both so good at this?”

They turned back to him, and saw the tears in his eyes. “I’ve been practicing for so long!”

“Oh, Mishima,” Akira said kindly, slinging an arm around his shoulders, “don’t be sad. We get a special kind of practice. You know what? How about we forget all this and go to the maid cafe after all? I’m getting hungry, and I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it this time.”

Mishima considered it for a moment, looking somewhat haunted, then gritted his teeth and nodded. “Ok! Let’s do it!”

They returned to the cafe, where they were led to their seats by a young woman in a flouncy maid outfit making cat like poses at every other sentence and, as promised, calling Akira and Mishima “Master.” She seemed unsure of what to do about Ann; this clearly wasn’t an establishment that frequently got female customers. She finally settled for “Mistress,” which Ann wasn’t overjoyed about, especially when Akira snorted as the maid walked away and asked if “Mistress enjoys using the whip on bad boys?”

They looked over the short menu, which was as overpriced as expected. Akira ended up deciding to get a coffee, while Ann went for pancakes. Mishima hesitated before hitting his fist into his open palm and announcing that he would be getting the omelette, even though it was the most expensive item on the menu.

The omelette and pancakes came out first, followed quickly by the coffee. Akira scowled into his cup as the maid stood by to add the “love” to the other two dishes. She did Mishima’s first, drowning the omelette in ketchup as she attempted to add some lengthy philosophical quote to it. While Mishima stared at his plate in dismay, she got to work on Ann’s pancakes, piping a veritable tower of Pisa of whipped cream onto it. The maid made some vaguely apologetic expressions, then escaped back into the kitchen.

Ann looked at the whipped cream standing before her, reaching to the tip of her nose, then tentatively stuck her tongue out and licked the top of the cream. Somehow, that movement was what broke the dam, and Mishima and Ann found themselves crying in laughter as they pointed at each other’s plate, unable to even speak.

When they finally caught their breath, they turned to Akira, and Ann said, “At least they must have gotten your coffee right?”

Akira shoved his cup towards Ann and growled. “They brought me  _ TEA _ !”

> **Ryuji** So, how’d it go?? You haven’t said a word all day!
> 
> **Yusuke** Yes, please keep us updated. Did you successfully eliminate Ann as a potential adversary?
> 
> **Mishima** Total failure. We accidentally got drunk on non-alcoholic soda, and ended up at a maid cafe.
> 
> **Mishima** Ann beat me at a shooting game and now I have a raging headache.
> 
> **Mishima** I’m going to bed. Yusuke, you have to be better than Makoto tomorrow!

* * *

The next morning, Yusuke arrived at Leblanc early in the morning, to find Makoto already sitting in a booth with a book open before her and a steaming cup of coffee next to it. He ordered a coffee of his own from Sojiro, then came to stand by her.

“I believe it is in our best interest to come to an agreement on our destination, rather than argue about it in front of him.”

Makoto looked up at him. “This is valid. Have you given thought to potential options?”

“I would suggest the art museum. It is a place of peace and culture, befitting Akira.”

“Hmm... yes, I believe this would be a worthy destination. I had considered the planetarium, for similar reasons, but the museum will allow further time for intelligent discourse.”

This settled, Yusuke went to sit in the booth by the window to sketch passersby. When Akira finally wandered down the stairs, the print of his pillow still on his cheek and his hair a tousled mess, they rose as one.

“Akira, we request that you accompany us to the museum today,” Makoto said.

“How long have you two been here?” he asked somewhat incredulously. “Uh, sure, the museum sounds good, but give me a minute to wake up and eat breakfast.”

* * *

Over an hour later, they were finally at the museum. After they’d walked around a bit, admiring the artwork in silence, Yusuke stopped by a painting and began explaining the symbolism behind it to Akira and Makoto. Makoto listened with one ear, more interested in how Akira smiled, enraptured by Yusuke’s passionate speech. She wasn’t very good at romance, and none of the romance comedies she’d watched on Eiko’s recommendation had prepped her for competing against a very pretty artist boy. She attempted to catch Akira’s eye, dropped her lipstick on the floor and carefully leaned down to grab it without bending her knees, and even undid an extra button on her blouse, but nothing worked. Giving up on her training, she decided to go for the tried-and-true technique of “beating them at their own game.” Pulling up Wikipedia on her phone, Makoto searched for the name of a large statue that stood in the center of the hall.

Cutting into Yusuke’s seemingly endless discussion, she put her hand on Akira’s arm, pulling him towards the statue.

“Did you know that this statue represents men walking to their deaths in order to free their city? The self-sacrifice in this moment of defeat is so well represented. I find it’s such an emotional piece.”

Makoto kept talking about the sculpture for a few minutes, until Yusuke broke in, pulling Akira on to a different painting. They kept going on that way from piece to piece, leaving each other less and less time to talk before dragging Akira away.

Before the hour was up, they were all but running, calling out at best a single sentence before being interrupted by the other. Their voices were rising as they tried to speak faster, and Akira was beginning to run out of breath attempting to keep up with them.

“The artist wanted to paint the sorrow of losing his favorite dog! The human emotions here are what’s important!”

“This painting represents the suffering of a god as he looks upon his creation and finds it lacking!”

“This one is about the inevitability of death!”

Akira started falling behind, exhausted, and realised that the other two hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t standing next to them anymore. Their voices continued to grow louder and when he saw museum security begin heading towards them, he turned on sneaking mode and slipped quietly into a side room, intently studying the case of ancient jewelry before him as though he’d been there all evening.

> **Makoto** I am ashamed to report that I have failed in today’s venture.
> 
> **Ann** What happened? Don’t tell me _Yusuke_ was better at seduction than you!
> 
> **Makoto** Thankfully, I did not do worse than him. However, as we both lost Akira and were removed from the museum premises by security, I will not mark that up as a great success. I believe I require further training in the arts of romance.
> 
> **Haru** I’m always happy to help a friend, Makoto! How about next Tuesday?

* * *

Ryuji and Haru had settled together on a late start the next day, knowing how Akira liked to sleep in. It was just after lunch when they walked in, both of them precisely on time, each carrying a pastry box. While Sojiro called Akira down, they chatted amicably. Although they were, of course, opponents in this game and would show no mercy in their efforts to take home the prize, they were both too nice to treat a friend with anything less than respect.

“What did you bring, Haru?”

“Just a few pastries from Maison Landemaine. A millefeuille, an opera, a saint-honoré… Nothing too fancy, but I know that Akira appreciates a refined sweet dessert after lunch. And you?”

“Funny coincidence — I brought him some homemade chocolate cupcakes I made.” He sat in a booth and set the box on the table, opening it to show Haru its contents. The cupcakes were decorated to resemble cats, with markings reminiscent of Morgana. “He always enjoys my homemade sweets, so I figured I would treat him to some. Don’t worry, there’s enough for you too!”

“How thoughtful of you, Ryuji.”

Akira made his way down the stairs, bending down to hug first Ryuji where he sat in his booth seat, then Haru. “I’m so glad you two could come today! Oh, did you bring me something?”

Haru placed her box down on the table as well, opening it up. “Yes, some tasteful pastries from a french bakery I particularly enjoy.”

“And I made you cupcakes.”

“Wow. All of this looks delicious! Let me get some plates and spoons and we can eat.” Akira walked behind the bar while Haru and Ryuji stared at his back.

Sojiro studied the three, taking in the particularly elaborate desserts and the ardent looks Akira’s two friends kept aiming at him, and came to a decision.

“I’ve got some errands to take care of today, so I’m going to close the cafe until dinner time. You kids try to be done here by then, alright?”

He flipped the sign on the door and walked out of the cafe, a nearly inaudible “hoo, boy…” escaping his lips. He wasn’t sure whether he felt worse for Akira or for his friends; the messy-haired boy he just about considered a son was a good person, but as blind to romance as they came. He’d seen the tides of confessions and affections break against the rock of his obliviousness for the entire past year. On the other hand, Ryuji and Haru were obstinate when it came to getting what they wanted. Closing the cafe was definitely the right choice; perhaps he’d miss out on a few customers, but it would beat them being scared off forever by lustful teen antics.

* * *

Back inside the cafe, Akira had returned with the plates. Ryuji patted the booth seat next to him and Akira slid in, leaving Haru to take the opposite seat with a swiftly-concealed glare towards the blond. She transferred her cakes to the plates, then as she was about to push one in Akira’s direction, changed her mind. Picking up a small bite of cake with a spoon, she leaned over the table. 

“Why don’t you try this, Akira. It’s an opera, it has coffee and chocolate flavors. You should love it!”

Akira opened his mouth, and Haru fed him, bites of opera cake interspersed with hums of satisfaction and appreciative words.

Not one to be outdone, Ryuji picked up one of his cupcakes and leaned against Akira’s shoulder.

“Save some space for these, too!”

Breaking off a piece of the cupcake with his fingers, he held it out for Akira to eat. Akira did so, brushing his lips against Ryuji’s fingertips before unexpectedly darting his tongue out to lick at some errant spot of frosting on the side of his hand. Ryuji’s brain short-circuited while Haru gasped, envious that she hadn’t had that idea first.

“Mmm, delicious. You’re so good at baking, Ryuji.” Haru seemed ready to burst, but luckily for both of them she was saved from having to mount a counter-attack by Akira getting up.

“How about I make some coffee to go with these? You both take them with heavy cream and sugar, right?”

“Yes, thank you!”

Akira returned with the coffees, and Haru took the excuse of “sitting closer so they could share the cakes” to push her way into the booth seat, sandwiching Akira between Ryuji and herself.

“Akira, could you give me a bite of Ryuji’s cupcake? It looks very good.” Akira missed Haru’s shrewd look at Ryuji, turning to pick up a cupcake and hold it out for her to take. Acting as though she had misunderstood the intent, she pressed closer to him to take a bite of it, purposefully near enough by his hand to run the tip of her tongue against Akira’s thumb.

They kept eating and feeding Akira until all the cakes were gone. Ryuji’d brought a dozen cupcakes, and they were more than full, but neither had been willing to stop before the other. Despite the coffee, their full bellies left them yawning. Ryuji rested against Akira’s shoulder. “I’m so tired, man.” Opposite him, Haru followed suit, leaning on Akira’s arm. Yawning widely, Akira let his head drop back against the top of the seat’s backrest.

“I was going to suggest some video games next, but maybe we can take a quick nap first…”

 

When Sojiro walked back in a few hours later, the three teens hadn’t shifted from their positions. He wondered, for a moment, who out of Akira and his friends could be considered to have won this round. Shaking his head ruefully, he walked over to wake them up and kick them out in order to get ready for the dinner rush.

> **Ryuji** I’ve got good news and bad news.
> 
> **Ryuji** Good news: I slept on Akira
> 
> **Ryuji** Bad news: So did Haru
> 
> **Mishima** What? Details!!!

* * *

It was Thursday, Akira’s last day in Tokyo, and he’d spent the better part of it helping around the cafe and chatting with Futaba. His train would be leaving at the crack of dawn the next day, so everyone was coming by that evening to see him off.

There was hot pot to eat, interrupted by happy discussions around the large table in the attic, and it was late into the night before everyone was finally done eating. After the table was cleared, Mishima and Makoto stood.

“Akira,we made sure to give you some time with each of us, and we hope you had a good time,” Makoto said.

“It was awesome! Thank you all so much for planning it all out so well!”

“You’re very welcome. But, before you leave, we’ve got something important to ask you.” Akira tilted his head in curiosity, and Makoto went on. “Do you like any of us?”

They’d hesitated about being so direct, but with Akira, it was best to take no chances.

“Of course I do, what a silly question!”

There was a collective intake of air as he spoke.

“I love,” he started, and they waited with baited breath for his next words, “all of you!”

They breathed out as one, deflating in disappointment. “You’re my best friends, even if I don’t live here anymore. Why wouldn’t I like any of you?”

Makoto and Mishima shared a look, then shook their heads. There was no point. They could probably describe elaborate fantasies involving Akira, late at night in their beds, and he’d still manage to misunderstand. They sagged visibly and sat back down, giving up.

A short time later, Akira had followed everyone outside the cafe to say goodbye one last time. They all stood around, unwilling to be first to walk away. After a bit of idle chit-chat, Ann snapped.

“Will you kiss me at least?!”

Akira looked up, surprised. “Oh? Is this what you guys do now? I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it... We just wave or shake hands back home, we’re not so sophisticated!” He walked up to Ann, and pressed his cheek against hers as he kissed the air by her ear before repeating the move with the opposite cheek. “I feel so european,” he said with a giggle, then proceeded to trade air kisses with each of the five others while Ann stared at him, bewildered.

“Well, don’t miss your trains on my account, then, get going!”

They walked away in disconcerted silence while Akira headed back inside. After a minute, Ryuji spoke up.

“So, uh, I guess the League of Akira Media Enthusiasts isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Oh!” Haru exclaimed. “We called ours the Society of Akira Devotees! Wait, media as in photos?”

“Mostly, but I do provide some paintings as well,” Yusuke replied.

Haru, Ann and Makoto convened to the side for a moment, whispering together, then returned to the boys. “We believe,” Makoto said, “that it would be in our best interest to combine our efforts. We have pictures to trade, as well as some writings.”

“Writings?” Mishima asked.

New members were added to private chats and photo albums, and as she stood in the middle of the road looking at a blurry picture of Akira from the back at the communal baths, his towel in his hand, Ann smiled.

“I think this is going to be a great alliance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pegoryu Week 2018, day 4: Rivals. This one’s a silly one, and doesn’t follow the chronology of my other stories.  
> [Come find me on tumblr!](https://thermopylod.tumblr.com/) My day 5 is artwork and will be posted there :)


End file.
